Finding Love
by nekofreakz
Summary: To find love is like to seek for a treasure. You have to take courage to find it, added with a small dose of foolhardiness.
1. Prologue

A/N: I hurriedly wrote this super short prologue as I remembered the birthday of one of the most beloved and dreaded characters that J.K. Rowling had ever written. The dour potion professor is impossible to forget.

Happy Birthday, Professor Snape!

**Prologue**

'_Take … it … Take … it …' _

Severus said it with difficulty, blood choking his breath, and _again_, fully aware that by giving those memories, he might just have condemned his loved one to an early grave.

'_Loved?'_ _Yes_—although anyone might find that word to be more than incomprehensible to describe the relationship of one Harry James Potter with him; simply the farthest word to associate with both of them.

Hate was more fitting or maybe despise. For all the boy knew, Severus practically existed just to make him suffer. While it looked like a misguided affection, he was definitely not having a delusional moment as he lied there on the floor, dying, nor had he somehow lost his mind. As ridiculous to admit, he, Severus Snape, the most hated professor at Hogwarts was _really_ in love with Harry James Potter.

Not only for this very last second, but had already been for years. Though, he had guarded it so well that not even the old headmaster had realized about it. Imagine, how unscrupulous of him to fell for both mother and son—how inexcusable. It was logical to keep it hidden when it would only do more harm than good.

Still, dying had that tendency to make people more honest – one final wish, they said.

And so a whisper passed his lips, betrayed his perseverance, 'Look … at … me …'

No hesitation as Potter lifted his eyes to meet his own. As he saw those green eyes, he knew beyond doubt that, even though he regretted many things in his life, he didn't regret to die for Harry Potter.

**End of Prologue**


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

It was the scent of forgotten summer, memories of days long past – the stiffly hot air, dizzying smell of honeysuckles, the buzzing of the bees that passed over his head, the beloved girl's ringing laughter. Feeling unsteady as if he was walking on a dream, Severus closed his eyes.

_Professor?_

'Who? Professor-who?'

_Professor Snape?_

'Snape? That's my name. Did you call me?'

_Professor, can you hear me? If you can hear me, please open your eyes._

'Open? Why should I?'

_Professor Snape?_

'Oh, you're persistent. Can I do it later? I'm still tired.'

_Professor! _

'Go away, you dunce.'

_Professor Snape!_

'Heavens! You're too noisy, fine!'

It took an effort to open his heavy eyelids. When he finally did it, he almost got a heart attack. If he could scream, he would probably scream at the sight of monster eyes above him but alas, his voice refused to cooperate. Instead he just made weird distressing noises, miserably torn between moan and groan.

Huge and green, the monster blinked dumbly at him. It should not possible but the monster got even closer to him. With his voice somehow gone, Severus tried to intimidate it by letting out his most menacing growl.

'TOO CLOSE! GET OFF ME, YOU OAF!'

"Professor Snape, are you all right?" the monster asked.

'Monster isn't supposed to talk… Monster doesn't—wait, Potter?'

Monster eyes curved upward slightly. "Don't worry, you're in safe hands. Voldemort is gone for good."

'Ow! What the—my neck! It hurts! Fucking hell, I'm ALIVE?'

"Professor, why do look at me like that? You look…" The monster gulped nervously, backing away from him.

'ANGRY? I'll show you angry!'

XxXxX

Everyone needed to be saved _except _Severus Snape. Next time, Harry would take that wise notion to heart. If he was asked why, well, it all started with rather innocent sentences to know that his meddling was not appreciated, not even for the tiniest bit.

Snape had this lost look on his face which was very un-Snape when he eventually woke up from his months-long coma. It was normal that Harry like every sensible person should provide assurance to the poor man.

"_Don't worry, you're in safe hands. Voldemort is gone for good."_

It took less than thirty seconds for Snape to process his answer before the dark haired professor exploded with anger. No, actually, he admitted that it was closer to murderous. If he didn't have a good reflex and Snape wasn't still so weak, it was his face that was supposed to get bashed by the vase which was on the table beside the infirmary cot instead of the wall.

However, when the pillow came flying next as there wasn't any blunt object left to be chucked at him – even though he thought that he owed Snape a lot – he felt annoyed, kind of. While he didn't expect Snape to be thankful, he believed it was totally uncalled to be treated uncivilized like this. Really, Snape was being childish. He'd only saved him. What the hell was so bloody wrong with that?

He was about to retaliate _gently,_ of course– God knew, he shouldn't pick a fight with a sick person in the first place – when a shriek stopped him.

"Oh my goodness! Mr. Potter, what have you done?" She said sharply, looking at the mess with horror, before looking sternly at him. "Out! I won't have you disturbing my patient!"

Harry grunted. It was unfair. For once, he hadn't even done anything. Though, he had better judgment than to oppose two angry people, one who wanted no more than to throttle him while the other was holding the wand threateningly and motioned for him to leave. He would retreat for now, but he would be back, he solemnly swore.

**End of Chapter 1**

A/N: It's mad, isn't it? Not quite the development I envisioned when I started writing this chapter, but I hope you readers will like it. And as this story doesn't have a proper Beta(erm, probably won't ever have one, sorry), it'll be really helpful if anyone can point out the grammar mistakes which I probably made. Thank you for reading, see you in the next chapter.


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